Two Sentence Stories

You died in my arms. I died in yours a hundred times.

This post was submitted by Dawn Rodgers.

The uncountable dead lay strewn about the Killing Fields, bearing oblivious witness to the dawn.
A lone figure surveyed his artwork in anguish, “What have I done?”

This post was submitted by Chimera.

Grandpa died.
My answer to ‘What I Did This Summer Holidays’

Dad kicked the bucket.
Mum kicked it right back.

We are gathered here today to mourn little Jimmy.
He didn’t listen to his friends about girl germs.

When I buried your body in the garden I didn’t expect a tree to grow.
It’s a fruit tree that looks really awesome but the fruit is fucking disgusting (in case you’re wondering).

The fact everyone dies is the one thing that keeps me going.
I hear you chatter and I think … please you next.

As unofficial house-poet of a borderline accredited girl’s junior college, Schwaa U’u had committed many acts that would almost certainly have been considered socially unacceptable outside the confines of the ivory tower. Such was the charismatic seediness of his reputation, that when, following his death by mystery, it was found his entire body of work [...]

Without wealth my darling, little American girl quietly died
my private option

This post was submitted by Mike Cahill.

I was waiting for the bus.
Then it hit me!

This post was submitted by Petko Boukov.

Daniel sat on a grassy hillock overlooking the town and sighed contentedly, peacefully, as a lazy breeze caressed the grass around him. It was a good way to spend his last three minutes alive.

This post was submitted by Nolan Adams.

Time has the final word.
Usually it is “didn’t you know you only get one attempt?”

I drove past a car accident on the way back from Axedale today.
A car had tailgated me earlier and I had wished they would crash.

I didn’t say his death was “inevitable”.
I said it was “enviable”.

He heard them saying something about an accident and a time of death, as he lay there staring helplessly at a host of people, doctors and nurses he assumed, with masks on their faces and gloves on their hands.
As a noisy, whining machine was powered off above his head, and as the doctors and nurses [...]

“You and your ethics, you can’t do it,” the Joker gurgled as he dangled over the side of the building.
“Fuck ethics,” Batman finally decided, and he let go.

This post was submitted by The Cloaked Stranger.

I wonder how many miles I am from my future grave.
Is it here in Australia or on the other side of the world?

The platform snaps open beneath the man’s brown shoes, and in an instant those shoes disappear as his neck pops against the noose, his feet swinging and clapping together. The crowd about August cheers — or perhaps they only give murmurs of approval; the world awaiting death is oft more quiet than that of [...]

Do you think those who jump from high places to their death experience something close to transcendence?
Do those brief seconds stretch on forever?

I killed the butterfly.
That should teach the rest about making those damn hurricanes all the time.